


Tell Me That Past Times Won't Die

by ghostfromtuonela



Series: Geraskierweek 2020 [5]
Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: F/M, Geraskierweek2020, M/M, Minor Jaskier | Dandelion/Priscilla (Witcher), Pining Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Unhappy Ending, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-20
Updated: 2020-02-20
Packaged: 2021-02-28 07:07:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22819762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghostfromtuonela/pseuds/ghostfromtuonela
Summary: "You never know what you have until it is too late."Only after losing Jaskier does Geralt realise the true meaning behind those words.---Part of Geraskierweek 2020. Day 5: Realisation
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: Geraskierweek 2020 [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1633456
Comments: 20
Kudos: 125
Collections: Jaskier or Geralt/others (with or w/out eachother)





	Tell Me That Past Times Won't Die

_“If life could give me one blessing, it would be to take you off my hands.”_

One year had passed by since Geralt chased Jaskier away on the mountain top after the dragon hunt. One year of blessed loneliness and silence, with no one to get in his way during his hunts or slowing him down on the road. It was all Geralt had wished for since he met that damn bard in Posada so many years ago. He should be glad that finally something had gone his way without having to use the aid of a djinn or other forms of magic.

And yet, each day Geralt found himself missing Jaskier something terribly. Several times a day he would check to see if Jaskier was still following him. Whenever he went hunting, he brought enough food to sate two people. Each time he entered an inn, he would order two rooms instead of one. Once he remembered that Jaskier was no longer following him around, it felt as if something had reached inside him and ripped his heart out. The loneliness became more and more suffocating to the point that he thought he would choke around it. The silence grew louder and louder until he felt his eardrums would explode.

He had often heard the saying that you don’t know what you have until it’s gone, but it was only now that he realized how true it was. 

What he had with Yennefer was not real; he knew that much. Yes, he had been attracted to her. How could he not? She was powerful, seductive, and so beautiful. Any man – witcher or not – would have a hard time resisting her charm. 

But Jaskier was not bound to him by any string of fate or destiny or magic. Jaskier had followed him around entirely out of his own free will. Jaskier had seen Geralt as a friend for no other reason than because he liked Geralt’s company. Jaskier was the sole reason why Geralt could enter most taverns and not immediately be kicked out or have stones thrown at him. And how had Geralt repaid him? By following after a sorceress he barely knew, and throwing Jaskier’s friendship right in his face like it meant nothing to him.

Geralt deserved every moment he spent wallowing in pain and misery. Only an idiot threw away the only real relationship he had for something that wasn’t.

His heart was pleading for him to seek out Jaskier and beg for his forgiveness. He would get down on his knees if that was what it took. But his mind kept telling him that he had gone too far and that seeking Jaskier out would only cause further heartbreak for both of them. 

“What should I do, Roach? Please tell me because I have no idea.”

He knew he was being ridiculous, and if Jaskier could see him, he would laugh at him. Of course, that would mean Jaskier was still with him, and he wouldn’t be having this conversation to begin with.

He’s in Toussaint when he hears rumors about Jaskier for the first time. The duke had come home to find out that his wife had been spending time with another man – a mere bard, nonetheless. Geralt did not need much information to put two-and-two together and realize that said bard was none other than Jaskier. The thought of Jaskier in bed with someone else made Geralt’s heart clench with anger and jealousy. It wasn’t fair that since parting with Jaskier Geralt had been unable to take someone else to bed. He knew he had no right to be jealous – not when he was the cause of it all – but it still hurt as if someone was stabbing him repeatedly with a knife. Nevertheless, he was relieved to know that Jaskier had made it across the border safe-and-sound. The duke was not particularly well-liked, so despite there being a hefty bounty on Jaskier’s head, no one had bothered to act upon it and instead chosen to side with Jaskier. 

Just thinking about Jaskier being brutally tortured and killed made Geralt’s heart ache far more than thinking about Jaskier in bed with the duchess of Toussaint. 

The pain doesn’t become any less bearable as time passes on, but quite the contrary. Once he accepted that Jaskier was no longer following him around, it was as if his world came crashing down on him. The hunts became sloppy, less calculated, and more reckless. He would throw himself into a hoard of drowners with no preparations and attack packs of werewolves without any care whatsoever. He didn’t bother to take care of his wounds properly, for no cut or burn mark or broken bone could measure with the emotional agony he felt every moment of the day. 

Although he didn’t actively seek out Jaskier, he often dreamed out running into him again by coincidence. A small part of him hoped Jaskier would be as miserable without Geralt as Geralt was without him. He dreamed of embracing the man and asking for his forgiveness, to which Jaskier would respond to him with a passionate kiss. He imagined what it would feel like to have Jaskier in his arms, with Jaskier’s hands around his neck and legs around his waist. Geralt would tell him how much he loved him, how beautiful he was, and how sorry he was for everything he said. Jaskier would be angry at him, of course he would be, but eventually he would kiss Geralt back and tell him he loved him too. It was foolish to dream, but it was the only thing that motivated Geralt to continue onwards.

Eventually, it reached the point where Geralt thought he would go insane if he didn’t seek Jaskier out and at least apologize. He needed to see if he had a chance, or if he had burned all his bridges. 

So he started asking around the various inns. Some of them recognized Jaskier, and others didn’t. None of them were helpful anyway, and every day without Jaskier felt as if he was slowly losing his mind. Every time someone recognized Jaskier but told him they hadn’t seen him in weeks, Geralt lost a piece of his soul. It should not be this hard to find the bard, especially not for Geralt, who, even by witcher standards, was an excellent tracker. He should have found him by now, but it was almost as if the bard had vanished into thin air. 

He didn’t know whether or not he should be grateful when Yennefer showed up.

“Long time no see, Geralt.”

“What do you want?” 

“I’ve heard rumors about a lovesick witcher searching for his bard, and I had to see it for myself.”

“So you’ve come to celebrate? Glad to know someone finds this amusing.”

“After what you did, can you blame me?”

“What did I do to you?”

“You bound me to you, even though you deep down loved him. You had no right to do that to me, and you had no right to do that to him either. Oh shut up, I knew how you felt about him when you came to me in Rinde.”

“Dammit Yennefer, this is the last thing I need right now. Unless you know where he is, get lost.”

“I don’t know where he is right now, but if you want, I can help you find him.”

Geralt was taken aback by her proposal, not knowing what to think about it.

On one hand, Yennefer had no reason to help him. He didn’t love her like he loved Jaskier, never had and never would, yet he had still made that stupid wish. By doing so, he had wronged both her and Jaskier at the same time. She had every right to be angry at him, and so did Jaskier.

On the other hand, he wanted to see Jaskier so badly that he was almost willing to accept any help he got. So far, no one had been able even to point him in the right direction, but if anyone could help him find Jaskier, it was Yennefer. 

“Fine,” he said.

“Give me a moment.”

Even though it only took her a few minutes to find Jaskier’s location, it felt like hours to Geralt. After years of agony, he was finally going to see Jaskier again. He tried not to get his hopes up too much. If he could only say that he was sorry, he should count himself lucky. But no matter how much Geralt tried, he could not stop himself from reliving all of his best dreams regarding Jaskier. 

“Found him, he’s in Novigrad right now,” Yennefer said after a moment, “Come, I’ll take you there immediately.”

“I’d rather just take…”

“Portals are faster,” Yennefer said, “You want to see him don’t you?”

That was the first, and hopefully last time, Geralt ever had to traveled through a portal. Thankfully, Yennefer managed to get them both to Novigrad in one piece. 

“I can’t believe you never thought to search in the larger cities, Geralt,” Yennefer said.

“Don’t you think I searched through Novigrad already? There isn’t a brothel or inn here where I haven’t searched for him.”

“How long ago was this?”

“I don’t know, five months perhaps.”

“And you wanted to waste more time by traveling on a horse. Geralt, if there’s anyone who can hide from you, it’s probably Jaskier. The poor fool followed you around for years. Ah, here we are. The Kingfisher Inn.”

Geralt stared at the door. Last time he came here the innkeeper had not seen Jaskier for years, but according to Yennefer he was right here behind this door. Every fiber of Geralt’s being was begging him to open the door, rush in and swoop Jaskier in his arms. 

“Well, what are you waiting for?”

“Are you sure he’s here?”

“Positive, now open the door before I blast it open myself and then blame it all on you.”

Geralt opened it and saw that the entire inn was packed with people, seemingly enthralled by the bard performing on stage. She was young, probably in her late 20s or early 30s, with a slim built and long blonde hair. She had a lovely voice, haunting and melodic. Geralt paid her no heed but headed towards the bar disk to order himself an ale. There was no way he would be able to face Jaskier sober.

“Witcher, back again? How is your search for your bard going?”

“I’ve heard he’s here right now. About this tall, slim built, messy brown hair and blue eyes. He should be around his 40s now.”

“We have a male bard here that fits your description now,” the innkeeper said, “He never misses a single performance by our dear Callonetta. I’ll go and get him.”

Geralt almost wanted to tell him not to do it. Jaskier was here. He had no doubt Yennefer was right about it. What was he going to say to him? He had imagined it so much throughout the last months, but now it was not just mere imaginations. This was his chance to make everything right again, and he could feel his nerves starting to act up. He took a large sip of his ale but felt it had no effect on him whatsoever.

“Geralt?”

Geralt turned around to look at Jaskier. 

“Melitele’s sake, I almost didn’t believe it when the boss came and told me there was a white-haired witcher looking for me, but here you are.”

“Here I am,” Geralt said, “I… I heard you were in Novigrad, and I wanted to see you.”

“Come on upstairs. We can talk more privately there.”

Geralt stood up and followed Jaskier. Although the man was in his early 40s already, the years had been kind to him. Aside from a few wrinkles in his face, he looked no older than last time Geralt saw him. There was still no string of grey in his hair, his eyes still shone like a bright summer day, and he had barely put on any weight. A part of Geralt wanted to push him up against the wall and yell at him that he had no right to be happy when Geralt had been close to drowning in his misery since they departed from each other. The other part of him just wanted to wrap his arms around the bard and kiss him senseless. However, he had a feeling that none of those would sit well with Jaskier.

“You look like shit, Geralt,” Jaskier said, “Sorry to tell you this, but you look like you’ve gone through hell these last years.”

‘I’ve been in hell. Every day without you is hell.’

“Contracts have been scarce,” he said instead.

“I find that hard to believe,” Jaskier said, “One of the reasons why I decided to settle down in Novigrad was because the road just isn’t safe for an ordinary human to travel alone.”

Geralt didn’t say anything after that, and neither did Jaskier. It felt like an eternity when they did nothing but just sit there, Geralt looking down on the floor and Jaskier looking at Geralt. Finally, Geralt could not take the silence anymore.

“I’m sorry,” Geralt said.

“For what?” Geralt knew that Jaskier knew what he meant but just wanted Geralt to say it properly. Geralt owed it to him.

“I’m sorry for what I said to you after the dragon hunt.”

“Is that all?”

“No, I’m sorry for not treating you as a friend. I’m sorry for not appreciating you more. It is because of you that I can enter most inns without being thrown out. It is because of you that the first thing people think about me is no longer Butcher of Blaviken. You are the first person who wanted to stick around me out of his own free will.”

“Thank you, Geralt,” Jaskier said and wrapped his arms around Geralt, “I appreciate that.”

Geralt wrapped his arms around Jaskier as well and was amazed over how well he fit in Geralt’s arms. It felt like something out of a dream to finally have Jaskier here in his arms, though no dream could measure up with the reality. Jaskier had forgiven him. Even though he hadn’t said it, his body language said everything Geralt needed to know. 

“Jaskier, I…”

“It’s okay, Geralt,” Jaskier said, ”Really, everything’s okay.”

“No, it’s not,” Geralt said, “I should never have treated you like that.”

“And you’ve apologized now,” Jaskier said, “I admit that for the longest time I was hurt and angry at you, but you were angry and hurt at the time as well. And well, if you hadn’t said those things then I might never have stopped pining for you like some lovesick puppy.”

“What? Lovesick puppy?”

“Come on, Geralt,” Jaskier said, “Surely, you must have noticed that I was madly in love with you back then.”

Geralt’s head was spinning around like a hurricane. Jaskier had been in love with him as well. Perhaps… perhaps there was still hope for him after all. Maybe he didn’t need to spend the rest of his days in this pathetic state. Maybe there was still a chance for Geralt to experience the sort of happiness that only Jaskier could bring him.

“Am I interrupting something?”

Geralt looked up to see who had interrupted them and saw the female bard from downstairs standing at the doorway. He wanted to tell her to fuck off, but the look on Jaskier’s face when he saw her stopped him. Jaskier broke free from Geralt’s grip and walked over towards her, and Geralt felt all his hope sink and heart shatter when Jaskier laid an arm around her waist and kissed her.

“Priscilla, this is Geralt of Rivia, my oldest friend. Geralt, this is the lovely songbird Priscilla, also known as Callonetta. She is also the second reason why I’ve decided to settle down in Novigrad.”

“Pleased to meet you,” Priscilla said and reached her hand towards Geralt, which he graciously took, “Jaskier has told me all about your deeds and your travels. I wish I could have seen it.”

Geralt wanted to run away from there. He needed to get out of there before his heart completely shattered into a million pieces. He desperately wanted to look away from the nightmarish scene in front of him, but he was unable to. He wanted to scream and beg and plead Jaskier to tell him that Priscilla was only a friend, to tell him that Geralt was the only one for him and not break his heart. But the way Jaskier held her, touched her and looked at her told Geralt that it would be nothing but a big fat lie. 

Even if Jaskier had at one point loved him, those feelings no longer existed.

“Are you staying for a while?” Jaskier asked, “I’m performing in a few hours, and although my lyrics are not as exciting as they used to be, Priscilla is a well worthy muse.”

‘How can you ask me to stay and listen to you serenading her? Is it not enough that you’re flaunting your love for her in my face?’

“I’m sorry,” Geralt managed to say, “I would love to, but I need to continue onwards.”

“Oh, that’s a shame,” Jaskier said, “It was good to see you again, Geralt. If you ever happen to pass through Novigrad, come and visit me, please.”

“I’ll try,” was all he managed to say before leaving Jaskier and his new love behind. 

Yennefer was waiting for him outside with a knowing look on her face.

“You knew,” he said.

“I did. I’ve known for a while now.”

“And you didn’t bother to tell me?” he wanted to grab her, shake her, and put his hands around her throat, “You could have warned me.”

“I wanted to make a point.”

“What point? That you’re an unsympathetic bitch with no regard for other people?”

“That’s rich, coming from you,” she said, “Did you show me any regards when you bound us together? Tell me, have you gone after your child of surprise yet? What about them? You know about what has happened in Cintra, right? You’ve entirely abandoned them!

“Queen Calanthe would not let me even see her!”

“And now the queen is dead, and who knows where her grand-child is!” Yennefer continued, “And what about all the times you told Jaskier that he wasn’t your friend? Did you show him any regards when you blamed every misfortune in your life on him?”

Geralt punched the nearest wall, imagining it was Yennefer’s face. He wanted to retaliate and tell her to shut up, but everything she said was right—so many people whom he had wronged in different ways. 

“The one person in the entire world who liked spending time with you, and you treated him worst of all,” she said, “Be glad he even wants to continue being your friend.”

“Shut up,” he said.

“You asked life to take him off your hands, and you got it,” she said, “He’s content here in Novigrad, and happy with his darling Priscilla.”

“I don’t want to hear anymore,” he said.

“No, I guess not,” she said, “Let this be a lesson to you, Geralt. Farewell.”

With that, she was gone, leaving Geralt alone once again. 

He got up on Roach, whom Yennefer had been kind enough to transport to him, and rode away from there as fast as possible. Away from Jaskier, away from the Kingfisher Inn and away from Novigrad. He didn’t care where he was going, or what awaited him. Hell, he didn’t care if he was to run into the Wild Hunt themselves.

Geralt of Rivia was already dead on the inside.

**Author's Note:**

> Well, that was... something else. I was going to write a super fluffy story where Geralt realises how much he loves Jaskier while they are travelling together and then they live happily ever after. But then I figured "Nah, let's go with something else instead."
> 
> \---
> 
> English is not my first language, so I apologize for any grammatical issues.
> 
> Title taken from "End Of This Chapter" by Sonata Arctica


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